Good Morning
by WhisperMaw
Summary: Good Night, Good Bye, and Good Morning


Jimmy Boland had come a long way since I'd first met him. Then again, so had I. What had started out as a relationship based on mutual necessity, turned into a whole different beast as we spent more time together. He had become someone I trusted, someone I cared for, maybe even someone I loved. Awful, isn't it? That it would take something like this happening to make me realize just how much Jimmy Boland meant to me?

I guess they weren't kidding when they said you don't know what you've got until you've lost it. Worse than anything though, is knowing that it's my fault he's gone. That thought never leaves my mind. Constantly it's haunting me; completely aware of the fact that I can't handle this, yet forcing me to deal with it anyways.

I'll never be able to forget my final moments with that boy. They changed absolutely everything for me. People on the outside may think I became bitter and torn apart inside after Jimmy left us, but they're wrong. I was hard and hateful. Hate was the _only_ thing I'd understood until Jimmy had looked up at me with his hurting, crystalline blue eyes. They'd bore into me like ice as he'd reached up and weakly took a hold of my t-shirt.

"It's not your fault," he'd croaked and then repeated to be sure I comprehended. I had nodded my head but we both knew I'd never be able to understand that. Since I had been the one to bring him there, the only thing that made sense to me was that his death had been my doing.

"Jimmy don't you dare go dying on me," I had sniffed, tears were already welling up behind my eyes and I had been doing my best for his sake to hold them back.

"Ben," he wheezed in response, allowing his eyes to shut in pain. "There's just something you need to know…"

When he didn't complete his sentence, my mind had flashed to every single movie that had ended up with a protagonist unable to hear someone's final words and, don't get me wrong, I was hoping that these weren't going to be his final words, but a man never knows. His chest, however, was still rising and falling so I assumed he had simply tumbled back into whatever unconscious state he had been in.

A memory slipped into my own subconscious as I waited for Jimmy to finish what he had begun to say: the time he had become separated from the 2nd Mass. We'd somehow managed to leave him behind when we moved out. Knowing Jimmy, he'd probably stopped to take a piss. That kid never, ever, went when he was supposed to. Anyways, I don't think I'd ever been more worried in my life, nor could I imagine being more worried. I don't even think Hal or Matt going missing could have been worse.

My heart had been in my throat all 48 hours that he had been gone. I couldn't think or eat or sleep. Just the thought that he could be dead or worst…my best friend…I still shiver imagining what might've happened if a Skitter had taken Jimmy. When we found him, it had been like we'd found a piece of myself; I had felt my chest relax as that part of me came home. He'd stumbled upon one of Hal's scouting missions and when I saw him sitting on the back of my brother's motorcycle, I'd nearly crumpled to my knees in relief. He had just come up, like nothing had even happened, shrugged his shoulders, and said "Miss me?" Missing him would've been an understatement. At first I hadn't understood the feeling I'd had when he was gone, but I do now. It had been heart break, sheer and utter heartbreak. Later, Jimmy had confessed how afraid he had been out there all alone. He'd told me how he didn't know what he would have done if he'd never seen me again. I had felt my cheeks warm at that comment and I'd tried to hide it with my hands. The reaction was not one I was proud of and to be honest, I couldn't really comprehend it at the time, either.

My eyelids fluttered shut against my will as I remembered the fateful day at the Sanctuary. He'd been sending off an uncomfortable vibe since my dad had introduced us back at the school but I ignored it, figuring he was just shy, like me. How wrong could I have been? Extremely. The way he'd glanced back at me on that soccer field, his icy, blue eyes full of fear, it was image that stuck with me. After I had proven myself to him, I had hoped I would never get that look from him again.

Unfortunately I did from time to time. Whenever I was having an especially rough day; the frequencies had been louder than usual, or I'd slip something out about how life had been with the Skitters, he'd give me this wary look, as though he was afraid I'd turn into one of those beasts directly in front of him. He tried to hide it, but I knew I scared him sometimes. How could I blame him? He had no way of fathoming all of the things I could feel. Being with Skitters brings an entirely new capacity to just about everything about you. It heightens your strengths and demolishes your weakness until you're nothing but a shell of the person you used to be, forced into a terrible perfection. Jimmy could try all he wanted, but he couldn't even begin to grasp all of the awful things that come with having those spikes forced into your spine.

Once, I had been feeling particularly down. It had been after my dad had left Hal in charge of Matt and I. Jimmy had been the only to notice that something was up. He asked me about it and when I'd blown him off he sat me down and forced me to tell him. I had explained to him how I'd been in Anne's Med bus grabbing band aids for Matt's scraped knees, when I noticed her calendar. My birthday had passed the week before and I hadn't even known it. Hal didn't say a word to me and neither did Matt. Nobody knew, not even me. Jimmy had spent the entirety of that afternoon trying to find some kind of make shift cake and candles so that he could celebrate it with me, even if it was a little late.

"What're you smiling about?" I was jarred out of half-sleep by Jimmy's voice.

"You," I mumbled sleepily.

"Me? I'm flattered." He tried to smile, but it turned into more of a grimace

"Don't hurt yourself, bro." I laughed lightly. Leave it to Jimmy to try and keep a light heart despite having a branch shoved through his gut.

"Oh, I don't think I could ever hurt myself. I'm as healthy as wet dreams to a 12 year old."

"You're disgusting," I told him, trying to hold back another smile.

"I'm hilarious," Jimmy corrected.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "So, what were you trying to say before you passed out again?" This boy needed serious prompting, always had.

"Oh," my best friend's face fell and I could tell things were about to become serious. "Look, I don't really think I'm going to survive this one, Ben…" I stopped him immediately.

"Don't even say that!" Jimmy held up a hand for quiet.

"Please," he said. "Just let me finish." I nodded and Jimmy waited a moment before continuing. "Look, I don't really know how to say this without it being awkward. But, I think it's just the kind of thing that needs to be said." Every word he spoke sounded more like a wheeze.

"Jimmy, just spit it out." I told him. His paling cheeks regained some color as they blushed a strange, not quite pink.

"We're friends, right?" he asked me.

"Of course," I replied.

"Well, um…could you do me a favor?" The strange color deepened and spread across his cheeks.

"Yeah," I answered, feeling my own cheeks redden. "What is it?"

"Could you…" Jimmy took a deep breath. "Kiss me goodnight?"

"Goodnight?" I asked avoiding the kissing bit and looking out the bus window. The sun was still high in the cold, late autumn sky. Jimmy nodded.

"Goodnight and goodbye," his breathing was becoming more and more labored as was my ability to hold myself back from crying. "Please?"

I stood up and leaned over my best friend's dying body. As soon as my lips met his unnaturally chilled forehead, the first tear fell and then the second. Before long, I couldn't stop them. When I realized he had stopped breathing, I was running for Anne or anybody who could help him.

"He's not breathing," I shouted but it wasn't really me speaking. It felt like being back with the Skitters; someone else controlling my actions as I watched helplessly from the sidelines. There was nothing I could do anymore.

When I'm awake, I remember Jimmy. The rare times I find sleep without nightmares, I am with him. There are so many things I did not get to do with him that I would have liked to. We didn't have enough time together. He didn't have enough time, period. Jimmy was so much more than my best friend and although my head isn't quite ready to accept that, I know my heart has and no one can change that. So, if there is a god out there and if Jimmy can hear me somehow, I want him to know that he will _never_ be forgotten and I'll be with him soon enough to kiss him good morning.


End file.
